Hands

Your hand touches my face
my cheek
my head.

it isn't a sweet caress
a soft whisper
a lovely gesture

its a blow
hard
vicious
cruel.
a strike.

your hand that held me and said you loved me
put me to shame, to disgust
your hand that did wonders to my body
made it reel back in disgust

the hands that held me
yesterday,
hit me today.